


Let Me Love You

by Secretwriter19



Series: Charcoal Smudges and Ink Stains [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 18:38:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Secretwriter19/pseuds/Secretwriter19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She never expected for this to happen to her. This wasn't how she had planned for her life to go-to be thrust into a new life, into a new culture where she knew no one simply because he father had become infatuated. She didn't see how it was fair, but she also didn't have a choice. So, what else was there to do but to make the best of it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preface

Chapter One: Preface  
I wondered, as I sat on the window seat of my newly finished room, if I would ever feel like I wasn't trapped-a prisoner awaiting her day of pardon from a cruel system that had tricked her into believing all who were innocent were justified in the end.  
So maybe the analogy was a bit dramatic, but it wasn't fair for me, a girl who was about two years from being able to graduate from high school in her own, native country, to have to cross an ocean because my father had fallen for a British woman with dark brown eyes and a pretty smile. I didn't see how it was fair for me to have to abandon the life I had been living comfortably for so long just for my father to follow what I saw as a whim. Perhaps he truly did love the woman he was going to marry a month into the summer, but the idea felt wrong to me. The idea of him loving someone that wasn't the woman who had given birth to me felt like a shallow, remorseless betrayal. I wanted him to be happy, and maybe it was selfish of me to think this way, but I wanted me to be happy too. Currently, the happiness quota was more than a little uneven. My father was in a fantasy world, one where everyone was smiling and happy about the marriage he was rushing into, after knowing the woman for only a year. I had been introduced to her before; it wasn't like she was a total stranger, which made me all the more bitter towards her. She had to be pretty and genuinely seemed to want to make a relationship between the two of us work for my father's sake.  
She couldn't have been pretty and secretly mean like in all of the other Cinderella stories I had ever read. No, she was sweet and genuinely nice. I frowned, picking at the hem of my blue sweater and shivered a little bit before wrapping my arms around myself. It was too cold here; it would never be as warm here as it was where I had grown up, and I would have to get used to that. Or wear a lot of layered clothes, whichever worked the best. I was beginning to think that the latter would be more probable. It was supposed to be summertime here, and it felt like it was the fall, when you would be wearing sweaters and drinking coffee on the front porch while the leaves turned yellow and red. I could smile and pretend I liked it here all I wanted while my father was in the process of deluding himself of believing life was perfect; it didn't change the fact that I might freeze to death during the summer. Looking out of the window I was sitting next to, I could see the small back yard we had and my frown remained unchanged. A small sigh escaped as I heard soft foot falls coming down the hallway; it was one of three people, I reasoned: my father, his new soon to be bride, or Eleanor, my new sister. Apparently, she had come with the package and I hadn't really been forewarned about her.  
I had been told, vaguely, about her; I just didn't think she would want to interact with me. However, she was like her mother and greeted me with a smile on her face and a pair of pretty brown eyes, also just like her mother's. She seemed nice-but I wasn't in the mood to be sociable. I had claimed I wanted to get settled in and had isolated myself from everyone else, focusing on making my room just like the one I had left. I had unpacked, moved furniture around, and painted the walls the exact same shade of purple my other room had been. Now that it was done, I didn't really feel any better than I did when the room was bare and white with no furniture. I just missed the heat, the sunshine, and the river I would be swimming at if I were home. The skies here were grey and it was a low seventy something degrees-fall weather that called for at least a light sweater in my book. People here were used to this level of heat being the hottest it got. I would hate to see them go to my hometown and spend the summer; they would all die from the heat in about a day. The average summer temperature where I lived was ninety degrees, twenty degrees hotter than it was here all year long. To say I was less than thrilled about this was accurate, given my current mood, I mused.  
A soft knock from the doorway interrupted my thoughts and I looked, turning my head to see the young girl who had graciously given me distance for the past couple of days. Her hair was down and pulled to the side in a ponytail; disgustingly, she was wearing short and a tee shirt. How could it be warm to her? It was too chilly to be wearing shorts. I wrinkled up my nose and she tentatively smiled at me, not knowing the reason for my distaste. "I just thought I would bring you something to eat; you haven’t been out of your room all day and I thought you might be hungry," she said, holding hat appeared to be a mound of something chocolate. She took a few steps forward, cautiously optimistic when I didn't immediately dismiss the idea. "They’re not very good at holding themselves together, I'm afraid. My mum is a much better cook than me, but I tried," she said, holding out the plate to me-and it was brownies. I looked up at her, now the one cautious, and spoke softly, "You didn't put enough oil in the mixture." She blinked at me, not expecting the response I gave. I gave her a halfhearted smile in return and drew my legs up from the stretched out position they had been in, a silent invitation for her to sit with me if she wanted; I wrapped my arms around my legs.  
"When you don't put enough oil in the brownie batter, it makes them fall apart. They'll taste normal but they won't hold together-and those kinds of brownies are best for a topping, like on vanilla ice cream," I continued, and she moved again, sitting in front of me with a strange expression on her face. "Do you.... Could you show me? I'm absolutely hopeless at baking and I have a movie night to go to tonight. They expect me to bring something and they always take the mickey out of me because they know I can't cook to save my life," She said, the pout in her voice all too convincing. I observed her for a second, debating the pros and cons of helping her. After a moment of prolonged silence, I sighed, standing and dusting off imaginary dirt form my jeans. "Fine. I'll spare you from being mocked by your friends. Do you use the mix or do you make them homemade?" The look she gave me at the query told me what she thought of my intelligence. "Right, sorry about that. Should've known," I said, giving her a small but more sincere smile. She led me out of the room and we both headed silently for the kitchen. She put the plate down on the table, watching me as I moved past her to get the things I needed.  
A mixing bowl, a wooden spoon, two measuring cups, eggs, oil, and a box of brownie mix were quickly laid out on the table. I pulled my hair up into a messy bun, pushing the sleeves of my sweater up before getting to work. Really, making brownies was so simple; add two eggs, the right amount of oil, mix it in with the dry batter until smooth and all of the clumps of powder were dissolved. Eleanor sat quietly, observing me with a level of fascination I didn't understand. Absentmindedly, I asked another question. "How long until you have to go to the movie night?" Ideas, as always, were forming in my head whenever it came to cooking. It was one of the few things I enjoyed, and even making this small pan of brownies was easing the ache I had felt ever since I had gotten here. Eleanor checked her cell phone, pulling it out of her pocket, and said in her crisp English accent that I hated to love, "It's half past noon now; I have a few hours." Her eyes narrowed slightly at me, and she asked, "Why?" I looked up at her and, for the first time, gave her a full smile, "Because these are gonna be the best damn brownies you've ever had. Get another box of brownie mix," I said, and her smile was like mine-genuine but with a small tinge of relief.  
-  
Two hours later, I stood in what was once a kitchen; it now appeared to be a war zone, all ideas of brownies being shot to hell. I was too busy cackling at the look on Eleanor's face to care.  
I had baked both pans of the brownies successfully, and had made the fudge sauce I was planning to coat them within about fifteen minutes after the brownies had gotten into the oven. Eleanor had taken to crumbling the brownies for ice cream topping like I had advised, and was quiet as she did what she perceived to be a necessary job for tonight's festivities. I had sat down, stirring the sauce to thicken it a little bit as we waited for the good batch of brownies to get done. "So," she began after a moment, "How do you like being here, in England? I mean, really? I know you put on a smile for your father, but it seems to me like you aren't too thrilled to be here," She said, delicate fingers crumbling the chocolate at a steady pace. I sighed, picking a piece of brownie from the pile and chewing on it slowly, thinking over my answer. "It's not that I hate it here, or that I dislike you or your momma. Really, I have no problem with any of it; this is a nice place, I'm sure. But it's summer and it feels like fall weather to me. I feel like I'm going to freeze in the middle of summer. It should not be cold during the-" A piece of brownie, soft and slightly sticky, hit me on my cheek. I blinked, shocked to see the smirk on Eleanor's lips. "You insult me, you American. My country's temperature is just fine, thank you very much."  
It had been a food war from that moment on. Throwing bits of brownie and then the fudge sauce, the kitchen now looked like a bomb had exploded in it and the bomb had been filled with chocolate. Currently, I had managed to get a small pile of brownie with fudge sauce on it and had hit her square in the mouth with it. She was standing there, looking at me in shock and I was laughing too hard to say anything comprehensible. Chocolate covering us, we looked like we had been through a battle-or that must have been what my father assumed had happened when he stepped into the kitchen and his jaw dropped. After a second, he closed his mouth and his blue eyes moved between us, amusement sparkling in his blue eyes. "Clean it up and I won't tell you destroyed the kitchen," he said, walking away. Eleanor gave me a playfully angry look and I shrugged. This had happened before; I knew how to clean it up. I sighed and said, "We're gonna need two rags, a mop, and a broom." She rolled her eyes, moving to the sink to wash her hands. This should be fun, I mused, and went to wash my hands too as Eleanor went to get the supplies. By the time my hands were washed, Eleanor had returned with all four items requested. She sat the items on the kitchen table and I took up a rag, knowing that the sooner we got up the sauce, the easier our job would be. Dried fudge wasn’t fun to clean.  
I took a rag and dampened it, starting to wipe the counters quietly. Eleanor followed suit, wiping down the stove instead. A few minutes passed in silence and then Eleanor spoke. "You should come tonight, to the movie night. All of my friends will be there. We're a small group and they would love you." I paused in what I was doing, tensing at the invitation. "That's sweet, Eleanor, and I appreciate the offer...but I think I'll decline. I don't feel up to going out tonight." There was silence before she told me it would be okay, she wasn't going to pressure me into going. Briefly, I felt bad, but then I remembered what I would have been doing had I been at home. I would be at the river and swimming with my friends, getting a tan and laughing at the people swinging out on the rope and over the deep end of the golden brown water. For a moment, I could almost feel the sand underneath my feet and the cold water around my ankles... I pushed the memories of past summers to the back of my mind and focused on the mess in front of me that I had to clean. I worked steady, letting the work take over my mind and trying to forget about the fact that I was so far away from the place I had grown up in. In no time, the counter was clean and we were sweeping and mopping the floor, getting the last of the kitchen clean.  
I finished ahead of Eleanor, having been the one sweeping, and claimed I was going to get a shower after leaning the broom against the counter. She waved me off, telling me to go ahead. I was grateful for it and headed for my room. The room didn't seem any different physically, but the ache in my heart had eased a little bit and made it seem a little less dull. Maybe, just maybe, I mused as I pulled out a pair of sweats and a loose tee, I would eventually learn to live here without constantly missing every tiny detail about the place I had left. I sighed, getting a new pair of undergarments and my bag of bath things (deodorant, tooth brush, tooth paste, soap, and things like that) before walking for the bathroom. I closed the door securely behind me, stripping down before turning on the shower and climbing in. I had fudge sauce and brownie in my hair and I needed to get it washed out before it dried and became difficult to get out in general. It didn't take me long to shampoo and wash; I had never been one to linger when it came to the shower. I was out and halfway dressed when a voice came through the doorway-the voice of Eleanor, my new sibling. "The kitchen is done; I took the brownies and put them in the fridge." I almost sighed, but refrained, and answered her kindly instead.  
"Thank you. I'll be out in a minute; I just have to get dressed," I said, and she didn't verbally respond to that. I finished putting on deodorant and pulled on the sweats and tee I had pulled out earlier. I pulled my hair into a mess bun, intending to brush it when I made it back to the room. I gathered my things, including my towel, and moved out of the bathroom, shivering from the chilly temperature of the floor when my feet came into contact with it. I moved to the room I had just come out of, spreading the towel out over the back of the computer chair I was using at my desk to dry. I pulled the ponytail holder out of my hair, grabbing a brush off of my dresser and beginning to fight with the curls I both hated and loved. As I neared being finished, an idea began forming in my head-one that my fingers were itching to write down at just the thought. I finished my hair hurriedly and pulled it into a twisted knot before moving to my dresser and opening the top drawer, reaching in it to pull out a notebook. I pulled the pen out of the spiral binding and went to the desk I had ignored for the better part of two days since I had gotten it done. I sat in the computer chair, opening the notebook and uncapping the pen, it hovering over the page just a second before I pressed it to the paper, marking the book with tot’s first story idea.  
Another one of the things I loved to do was writing; my father had once claimed it was my favorite hobby. Now he had realized it was more than just a passing thing that a thirteen year old did. I was sixteen, about to be seventeen and going into the eleventh grade (I had been held back until the last absolute year, so go figure I was older than most of my classmates, despite the diminutive sixe I maintained) and I intended on making a career out of it. I wanted to be a writer for a magazine, or an author. It depended on the day, really, what I wanted to do…and perhaps, one day, I would be able to do both. But what I loved most was writing little stories-no one ever got to read them, even though plenty had asked to have permission to. Even the one girl who had taken claim to the title of being my best friend had never seen one word of my writing outside of school work. At the moment, I had an idea to write just exactly what was going on with my life; because, seriously, who had a life like this? This was the kind of thing people put in stories. No real people lived this kind of life. No one ever moved to England during the middle of their school career because their father had fallen in love with an English woman. These things didn’t happen to other people, but apparently they happened to me, and I was going to document it as best as I could.  
Well, on the bright side, I knew what I was going to be doing tonight.  
-.-.-.-.-  
Several days had passed since the brownie war, and I was beginning to feel ever so slightly more comfortable in the small house I had moved into; it wasn’t much, but I counted it as something.  
Currently, I was on the couch, clad in another pair of sweats and a sweater, sitting Indian style with my feet tucked under me and attempting to write something out that had been bothering me for the past couple of days. I didn’t always write stories; I sometimes wrote poems and right now this one was itching at the back of my brain, trying to get out. A small sigh escaped my lips as I erased another word, writing in another one and moving to the next line. A light noise, the sound of someone clearing their throat, distracted me in the middle of a word and I looked up to see Eleanor once again. She seemed hesitant to speak as she moved in front of me. Hands clasped behind her back, she looked every bit like a little child who had stolen a cookie before supper. “I…don’t really know how to say this. First of all, please don’t be angry with me because I wasn’t trying to be mean when I did it. I swear, I just…” She paused and I wondered briefly what she could have done to be mean to me. I had barely been here a week and she didn’t even know me. We were still getting used to being around each other, so… I paused in my thoughts, suddenly remembering the invitation she had given on the day of the brownie war. Well then. We would see just what she had roped me into. “It’s just that you seem so lonely here and I just wanted you to meet some people who could make it easier.” My eyes slowly narrowed as she spoke, shifting from blue to green in almost an instant. She blinked, momentarily distracted. “Did your eyes just change color…?” I rolled them slightly, saying, “They do that occasionally. You were saying?”  
Her expression shifted from curious to nervous once again and I narrowed my eyes at her once more, prepared to feel angry at her for roping me into something if it was horrible. “Well, you see, Louis-my boyfriend, sorry-has this place that he goes to every summer to swim and camp with for a few days with all of his friends and I thought that, erm, that you wouldn’t mind going so I told them you’d be happy to come?” She finished the mini speech as a question and my eyes didn’t relax their narrowed posture for a few more tense seconds. “Good luck getting my dad to let me go. He barely let me go to the store at home,” I said, settling back into the couch without a word of protest. Was I absolutely livid on the inside? Yes, yes I was. But Eleanor hadn’t been trying to be mean, like she had said, and I couldn’t fault her for wanting to do something nice for me. And I had gone camping before (not that I had particularly enjoyed it, but I had survived a weekend with my father in the wilderness-that was a feat that deserved the Nobel Peace Prize. My father did not like camping. At all).I sank back into the couch, mind drifting from the poem as I considered all of things that could happen and that they would need. Maybe I could help them make a list of all of the supplies they would end up needing and forgetting- No. No, I was not going. I was not going on the trip because my father wouldn’t let me and they could get attacked by mosquitoes and starve for all I cared... Okay, so I wasn’t that heartless, but if I wasn’t going, I wasn’t helping. It was as simple as that, really, because I had no intentions of going.  
I glanced up to see Eleanor still standing there, this time a guilty look crossing her features more heavily than the hesitance I had seen before. My eyes narrowed again, still glittering green from the low thrum of anger I could feel beneath my skin. It dawned on me why she could look so guilty and I gasped, shock running through me at the thought that she would have the gall to do something like this. “Ohmygosh, you asked him? You asked him if I could go with you-what the hell did he say?!?” She flinched at how I had raised my voice, but I didn’t care (This was crossing a line-roping me into something I didn’t want to do, going behind my back and asking my dad if I could go with them without knowing whether I wanted to go first or not. Then and again, she had probably known I would say no so she had asked my father before she had asked me-or, well, told me. She was smarter than I had given her credit for in the beginning. That or she had someone whispering in her ear and telling her what to do. I wanted to think, for her sake, it was the latter, because if she really was this cunning with how she went about things, we were going to have problems). “Well, he said he thought it was a good idea, for you to go out and make friends and my mum agreed. They said having a week to themselves would be nice-it would be a week for them to get used to living together and a week for you to get to know some people so you’d be more comfortable when it came time for school, that you would be happier if you had friends-”  
Seriously, what was with her and her obsession with me having friends? I stood and she took two steps back. It was a good move, in my opinion. “A week. A week of camping. Do I look like the type of person who likes camping? I don’t even like-you know what, never mind. I’m gonna have to go anyway, and it does no good to complain. When are we leaving?” She fidgeted, mumbling an answer I barely caught. “Monday morning.” I felt my tense shoulders relax a little and I began to form a plan in my head. “If I’m going, I’m planning the trip. I plan all the food we take, all of the supplies and no one gets to bitch if they don’t get something they like because if I go, no one is starving on my watch or dying of blood loss or itching from bug bites or getting third degree sunburns. I am not going to be the person signing a report at the end of the week if one of you goes to jump off a rope or out of a tree and breaks your neck. I am not going to pretend to be thrilled to be going on this trip-I’m not fond of dishonesty. But I’ll be damned if we all die in a heap just because some of you forgot to pick something up.” I closed my notebook, marching out of the living room with one of the angriest expressions I had had since I had gotten here. I brushed past my father, who laughed quietly and earned an evil look before I slammed my door shut as loud as I possibly could.  
Perhaps throwing a tantrum was childish, but, dammit, why couldn’t Eleanor just accept that I liked to be alone? Maybe I didn’t like being social, or being with a large group of people all the time. Maybe I just wanted peace and quiet. Was that really so hard for her to accept? I collapsed onto my bed, laying on my stomach and sinking my face into one of the soft pillows at the head of it. I breathed slowly; evenly until the anger was like a steady tingling sensation underneath my skin, and an electric current was the only comparison that I could make that would be adequate to describe the feeling of anger inside of me. A gentle knock came at my door and I was tempted to yell for the person to go away, but remained silent. If it was Eleanor, she had a lot of gall to think she could even think about coming near me for the next 24 hours. I heard the door open with a quiet click and knew it wasn’t Eleanor. Eleanor knew better than to come after me. The bed sank in beside me and the familiar smell of my father’s cologne graced my senses before I heard his sigh. It was a moment before he spoke, and when he did, I felt my anger flare at his words. “I know that moving here wasn’t your idea and that maybe it wasn’t the best thing for you in your eyes, but did you have to be so harsh to her? She only wanted to help, bug,” he said gently. I sat up and he seemed shocked by the green shade of my eyes and the angry wetness that lingered in my eyelashes as I glared at him for the first time since he had announced to me we were moving to England over the summer.  
“Don’t patronize me,” I gritted out, and he opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off. “And don’t tell me what you think I’m thinking or what I feel, because you have no idea of what’s going on. Not even the slightest. I hate this place-I hate it. It’s cold in the summer and I know absolutely no one here. I don’t want new friends or Eleanor’s friends, I want my friends, the ones that are on another continent that I should be on but I’m not because you had to go and move to England and fuck up my life because you’ve known some woman for a year and decide on a whim to get married to her. Well, here’s a newsflash: I hate living here, I don’t want to go on some half assed camping trip, and I never wanted to be here in the first place. You wanna have a talk? There’s your talk. Now please get out of my room and leave me alone.” I planted my face back in the pillow and breathed as steady as I could, trying to keep from sobbing. I really did hate it here and I had been suppressing the dislike I had for it for far too long until it had festered into something horrible inside of my chest. A small part of me reasoned that I shouldn’t have talked to my dad like that and I almost felt guilty. But there was only a very small part that felt sad about me talking to him like that. A much larger part of me was absolutely livid at the idea of going on a camping trip.  
Another sigh came and then my father spoke, his voice sounding decisive. “I know you want to go home. I’ve known since the beginning you never wanted to go. But the least you can do is make an effort for things to be more comfortable around here-and you owe Eleanor an apology because her intentions were only the best. She didn’t want to hurt you but she knew the only way to get you to agree to go was if she put you in a spot where you couldn’t refuse. She could read you well enough that she knew that and you need to apologize for yelling at her and at least put a happy smile on your face until this trip is over. Then you can go back to sulking and being a moody teenage girl like every other one on the planet. And you are going on this trip-it’s an order, if you want more incentive. It’s an order form me, and you’re going to whistle while you work if you have to.” I lifted my head up, two glittering tears falling down my cheeks as I glared at him. He sighed, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You’ll thank me for this later-all that I ask is that you don’t magically get a boyfriend and fall in love. I’m going to go to the kitchen and get something to eat. Try not to demolish your room, okay?” To be honest, I felt like kicking a hole through my dresser, but I knew he was right. I knew I had had no right to yell at the poor girl who was about to become a member of my family, and that she had only wanted to be nice. But, for just a moment, I wanted to be unreasonably angry and selfish and petty. I wanted to be the brat I had fought back and hid in a corner ever since my father had announced he had proposed and would be getting married over the summer.  
Up until now, I had taken it all with a smile on my lips and a fake twinkle in my eye. Maybe I was terrible at hiding my feelings and everyone knew how much I hated this, but I didn’t care. I had tried, had put in so much effort to be productive and normal and to make things work. I had put in so much effort and now it just seemed…it seemed like I was being taken for granted. I just wanted one moment to let the anger soak into my bones and let me be selfish; I wanted one moment where I was allowed to cry because I missed home. My home was across an ocean and I was in a cold, wet place that should have been far, far away from me. I took a deep, shuddering breath, for once not trying to rein the wetness in and let the hot tears slide onto the pillow, soaking it as I cried quietly. I hated living here, breathing the cold, and wet English air. I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to be where it was too hot to think and where people spent weekends at the river and the rest of the week in pools or in amusement parks, getting wet to keep cool. I wanted my best friend, who was so far away and probably asleep right now. I sniffled, trembling against the soft purple cover on the bed, and didn’t expect to feel a gentle hand on my back, rubbing smooth circles. I cried harder, a little bit of noise escaping the pillow as I remembered my mother-the one who never fought to keep me when my father had announced his decision to move to an entirely different country. She didn’t care, no matter how badly I needed her to. She didn’t give two shits about me and this was all her fault, no matter if she was my mother or not.  
The fact that she was only seemed to deepen the sting of her rejection and the sense of betrayal I felt when I thought about her waving goodbye to me on the front porch of her house, her never bothering to come to the airport to see me off.  
It was in the middle of all of the tears I shed that I drifted off to sleep.


	2. Chapter Two-Day 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She never expected for this to happen to her. This wasn't how she had planned for her life to go-to be thrust into a new life, into a new culture where she knew no one simply because he father had become infatuated. She didn't see how it was fair, but she also didn't have a choice. So, what else was there to do but to make the best of it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have about three more chapters done-up to day four-and all have to do is edit them. There's gonna be a day per chapter and I think I'm gonna post about two a week, more if I get enough done. It all depends on how my week goes, to be honest.  
> And with that, I will stop pestering you so you can continue to read the story.

Chapter Two: Day 1  
Two days later, on Monday morning, I was compulsively checking the list I had made for the third time as I stood in the driveway, carefully observing each item in the back. Eleanor stood off to the side, ear glued to a phone as she laughed at something someone said on the other end.  
After the argument on Friday, I had tried to make things easier like my father had suggested for me to do. I had apologized to Eleanor, explaining to her that while I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be agreeing to it, I would go on the trip and at least be agreeable. She had eased up on the tenseness and guilt after that and she had actually been a lot of help planning things for the trip. She had helped out a lot with the grocery buying and stocking up on supplies like insect repellant and sunblock. I checked off the last item on the list and put the pen I had been using the spiral binding once again after closing it. A small sigh escaped as I watched Eleanor giggle, telling someone on the phone she would be there as soon as she could and to not let someone eat all of the marshmallows. I reached up; standing no my tiptoes to grab the hatchback of the vehicle and pull it closed. She hung up her phone and looked at the screen for a few more seconds, tapping it gently with her fingertips before looking up at me. “Are you done flirting? Or should I have added another fifteen minutes to the schedule?” My question was said in such a dry tone that Eleanor blushed. “Sorry. Lou’s a nit of a talker. He was telling me about all that they’d gotten up to-they’ve been there since last night. The original plan was to go on Sunday night, but I told them I’d need one more day since we had to get all of our supplies and things.” She moved to the driver’s side of the vehicle-I had to think about it for a moment before I slid into the passenger seat, where the driver’s side would normally be on an American car.  
I buckled up quietly as Eleanor turned on the radio, a light pop tune filling the air. She hummed along with it, a smile playing on her lips as she pulled out of the driveway. “So, we’re going to go and pick up the girls and then we’re going to drive about…four hours? Yes, four hours to get to where we’re going for this week.” I almost voiced that she was going on the wrong side of the road, but kept quiet as she continued to speak, realizing that the roads here were different from the ones I knew. A small sigh escaped as she continued, briefly explaining each person. Her voice was at a normal volume, soothing and something I could only compare to calm waves as they washed up on a shore. I wondered if she had practiced the tone she was using on either of her friends that she had roped me into meeting before letting it wash over me, lulling me into a false sense of security before having to come face to face with the two girls who I most certainly didn’t hold the expectation of becoming an integral part of my day to day life.  
“Now, you have to understand that the girls are really excited to meet you and they’ll probably come off as a bit odd, but they’re not mean, and they only mean the best. They’re…special, I suppose. Perrie love dyeing her hair different colors-I think this month is purple. She might have blue hair again. Either way, Perrie likes bright colors and se loud and a little obnoxious but that’s why we love her. Danielle, we call her Dani most of the time, loves dancing. She’s tall, lean, and loves to move-she kind of moves like a cat, to be honest. It’s weird how graceful she is-but I suppose not, since she practices so much. Anyway, there’s just the two of them we’ll be picking up. If Zayn’s sisters or Louis’ came, they’ll have gone with the boys because they wanted to leave early. For what reason, only GOD knows. I had figured they would be like Perrie and Dani and would want to stay inside an air conditioned place for a few more days, but no. They were just a bit too eager to get to the sunshine and the river. Which puzzles me, but… they are related to Louis and Zayn, which can excuse a lot of their behavior on the idea of them having to put up with them constantly. Between Zayn’s moodiness and Louis’ tendency to go overboard sometimes, I’m surprised they’re not in a loony bin already. They should have full and free admittance to do whatever they want for the rest of their lives, in my opinion.”  
I quirked an eyebrow at her, asking if by the motion if they were people I should stay away from and she seemed to understand the unvoiced query. She paused, turning down another street before speaking again. This time her voice held a tinge of frustration to it as she spoke of the two people she had essentially been complaining about before-and now she was going on a full rant. It was amazing how people, when left to talk, would tell everything that was bothering them. It was one of the reasons why I normally kept quiet It was interesting to hear what people say, the tones in their voice that betrays so much more than their words do. I loved to watch their reactions, see the tiny involuntary motions and twitches they did, never knowing how amusing it was to see how common it was between everyone and never noticing it on other people because they were too busy thinking of a response that would top what the other person was saying. People rarely took time to listen anymore and it was something I sincerely enjoyed. I watched how Eleanor’s jaw tightened and her eyes narrowed. Her hands gripped the wheel tighter and her foot pressed the gas pedal ever so slightly, giving the car a small and barely noticeable burst of speed. Had she not had my full attention, I wouldn’t have noticed either, I was sure.  
“I mean , don’t get me wrong-I love Lou to death, and Zayn is an absolute sweet heart once you get past the walls he puts up to keep you out, but, damn, they’re frustrating even on the absolute best of days-especially Lou. He just doesn’t know when enough is enough. I love his enthusiasm, but sometimes I wonder if he’s running on energy drinks constantly. He’s just that energetic. He doesn’t stop until he passes out on the pillow and when he gets up, he’s ready to go again at the same million miles an hour he was the day before. Believe me, last year when we went, I nearly killed him and so did our parents. We’re just lucky that no adults are coming this year because I think they planned on having booze at least one of the nights we’re there-by the way, are you opposed to drinking? Will you rat everyone out about it? I should have asked before, I know, but I figured you would use it as ammunition against going and I didn’t want you to have a valid reason not to go and meet people. I know that that sounds beyond horrid, but I just want you to be happy and-”  
As she elaborated on the subject, I reached into the bag at my feet that contained my notebooks, a bottle of water, pens, and some freshly baked brownies coated in fudge, and pulled out a purple notebook and a pen-the same one I had used a few days ago when I had had the idea to write my summer. She spoke and I jotted down the details, watching the scenery goy by at a much faster rate. When she paused, looking over at me, I looked up, giving her a sheepish smile before saying softly, “You talk an awful lot. I figured I could jot down an idea and you wouldn’t notice. I was paying attention-I’m sorry if you felt that I wasn’t-by the way, I’m not opposed to other people drinking; I just prefer not to so someone can look over the ones who aren’t sober. It’s a mother hen instinct, yes, but… Anyway. You were saying about my happiness?” I prompted her and she shook her head ever so slightly, clearing her throat. “Sorry about that. Lou has been…evasive lately and I think it’s because he’s planning to attack us with water guns when we get there and I told him not to because Perrie’s going to have a fit and Danielle will be pissed for a fortnight about it but he never listens no matter how many times I tell him.” I paused, considering my response briefly before saying, “Condition him.” She glanced at me briefly, giving me a puzzled look as she began to slow down the vehicle.  
Turning her blinkers on as she approached another corner, she said in a politely confused tone, “I beg your pardon?” I snorted, saying “Condition him. Train him to do what you want. You know exactly what I’m talking about-you have something he wants and every time he doesn’t listen to you, you don’t give it to him. It’s the same thing women do when they get married, when they need to get their husbands to do something. You want him to do it, make him do it without even knowing you’re training him to be how you want. It’s a very easy scientific concept. It’s often used with dogs and the concept of using newspaper on them when they misbehave or giving them treats when they do something good. I’m telling you, it works.” She had parked the car in a driveway and was staring at me, mouth slightly agape as she took in my words before she choked out, “You can’t be serious.” I rolled my eyes, now a silver blue, and said, “Fine, don’t do it and get soaked with water upon arrival. Your choice.” She seemed to snap out of her shocked state about a second after I finished speaking and honked the horn twice, the sound as brisk as her accent. “I don’t know,” she finally caved, sighing. “It seems awfully mean to me to crush Lou like that…” Two girls, one with bright purple hair and one with dark brown hair much like mine, bounded out of the house, bags in tow.  
They were both smiling so widely it made my cheeks hurt. They tossed their bags in to the floor board directly behind us and I nearly sighed, pained that all of the organization I had done would go to waste now. I could feel the disorganization creeping up on me. As soon as they were in the vehicle and the doors closed, they were buckling up and talking about a million miles an hour. I sank ever so slightly lower into my seat, hoping not to be noticed by either of them, and listened instead to them speaking about how the boys had called and said the weather was absolutely perfect for swimming today. I swallowed nervously as Eleanor peeked over at me, a frown gracing her lips. They paused, looking at each other, and the one with blue hair, Perrie I guessed mentally, asked her a question. “What’s wrong, El?” She cleared her throat gently once again and said, “Well, besides the fact that you’ve obviously had energy drinks-don’t deny it, I smell them, Dani-I think my soon to be sister feels a bit overwhelmed at the moment and you’re not helping her feel comfortable.” There was silence for a few seconds and then the one with the bright purple hair as leaning forward and smiling at me. “Hello. You must be Evangeline? We’ve heard loads about you-I didn’t see you when I was getting in or I would have been more polite. I’m Perrie, by the way. Perrie Edwards, one of this loony girl’s best friends.”  
She grinned, pinching Eleanor’s cheek as she continued, talking fondly of the now blushing brunette. “Though you probably knew that, right? Since she’s such a talker, our little El is.” Eleanor rolled her eyes and proceeded to back the car out of the drive as Danielle leaned forward, smiling softly at me. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Evangeline. El was excited about you coming.” A small smile formed on my lips, almost genuine. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too. Erm, I know this is a bit off topic, but, I thought I would bring something to snack on for all of us-I hope you like brownies?” I phrased it as a question and their eyes lit up as I pulled out the bag. “Oh, the brownies we had on the movie night? They were fantastic. Did you make them by scratch?” Danielle was the one talking and Perrie had taken a brownie, biting it clean in half and letting out a noise that was almost inhuman; I blinked as she licked her lips, wiping them clean while she chewed (with a certain amount of difficulty) the mouthful she had. “I…are you okay?” I asked Perrie, watching as a blush graced her cheeks before she swallowed her huge bite in one go. “Yes. I just…these are heavenly. No wonder Zayn loved them so much; he got plum giddy over them, like a thirteen year old girl when she gets jewelry on Christmas. He wouldn’t give me any of them either; never seen the little twat so happy, not in our entire relationship.”  
She finished off the rest of the brownie before continuing as she swiped another. “Oh well, I’m warning you-he’s going to try to swindle more of these out of you and he’s damn good at it; gorgeous and charming when he wants to be with those cheek bones and puppy eyes. His jawline doesn’t hurt the eyes either when he doesn’t-” Eleanor cleared her throat, interrupting her with d a dry, “Do we need to give you a moment alone? Maybe you can call Zayn and tell him how you’re pining?” “Oh, shove it; she deserves fair warning and you know it,” Perrie said, munching happily on the chocolate treat in her hands. This boy, this Zayn who was both moody and beautiful and charming seemed to be an enigma, but I refrained from mentioning so to them, instead jotting down a bullet about how Perrie had talked about him so much. Eleanor spoke again, breaking the brief silence with her cheerful voice. “Well, at least we’re well on our way to the place; the boys say they’ve set up camp fairly well, but I still think we’re going to have to build a proper fire and fix the tent. Even if Harry and Niall can do it better than all of them in about five minutes doesn’t mean they don’t want to see Louis suffer, especially after last week. When he got that video of them-well, they’re gonna want to see him suffer, and it doesn’t matter how to them.”  
Perrie spoke up after her, offering some sort of insight-but I didn’t catch it because I was too busy writing things down in my purple notebook. Once again, an idea had struck me, and I intended to get it written down.  
D1D1D1D1D1  
Four hours later, we arrived at the camp site and the sun was shining brightly as the clock hit twelve fifteen in the afternoon. A small sigh escaped as Eleanor shut the vehicle off and the girls piled out, pulling their bags with them.  
Perrie had consumed all but five of the brownies and it was only when Danielle smacked her on the back of the head that she would stop eating them. I was flattered, really, but she was just a bit too enthusiastic for my taste. I supposed she would grow on me from her coming over to the house to be with Eleanor, but it would probably take a while for me to get used to how high strung she was.. I hesitated before getting out, looking over at Eleanor who was taking the keys out of the ignition and sliding on her flip flops. She looked up, her brown eyes meeting mine that had turned silver with worry. She gave me a soft smile, saying, “It’s going to be fine, Evangeline. Just relax. They’re going to love you, I know they will.” She squeezed my knee briefly before climbing out of the vehicle and moving towards the back, where all of the supplies were kept. Reluctantly, I followed, opening the door and sliding out, clad in a pair of full length jeans and a thin sweater with a tee over it. It was seventy five degrees-did they seriously think it was hot enough to want to swim? No, it wasn’t. When it hit ten degrees higher, maybe it would be warm enough to swim in the water. And that was a strong maybe even then.  
With my notebooks and writing supplies securely in my bag, I moved towards the back of the vehicle and watched as Eleanor stared helplessly at the piles of organized things I had put into the vehicle early this morning. “It’d be best to get all of the small stuff out, like the duffel bags, first. Then we’ll get out the big stuff, like the cooler and the tent and the sleeping bags. That sound good to you?” She nodded, moving to grab the duffel bags, leaving me to get the bags of supplies that didn’t need to be kept cold-like the bug spray and deodorant and shampoo. I rolled my eyes, grabbing the bags and following her to where a group of tents were, one of them looking like a hurricane had hit it last night. She was grinning at the sight of it and I guessed that Harry and Niall had indeed let Louis suffer-that or a hurricane had actually passed through. She sat the duffel bags down where Perrie and Danielle had left theirs and I dropped the supplies by them; we trekked back to the vehicle-but halfway there, Eleanor grabbed my wrist, motioning with a finger against her lip to tell me to be quiet. She pointed under the vehicle-and there were four pairs of feet. Well, if that wasn’t obvious… Cautiously, I slipped out of the shoes I was wearing and padded over to the vehicle, earning a puzzled look until I tucked my bag that had my writing things under the driver’s seat so it wouldn’t get wet if they were planning on soaking us.  
It was a wise decision.  
Eleanor sighed loudly, dramatically, saying, “Come on, we need to get all of this unloaded before the boys get back; like they would actually be here to help though, right? They can inhale all of the food but heaven forbid they help unload it and cook it-although, admittedly, I wouldn’t let Liam cook a damn thing. He’s a horrible cook.” I smiled at her, saying, “He can’t be that bad; cooking isn’t that complicated.” I was being serious-and she rolled her eyes, saying, “You’ve never met Liam. He’s completely hopeless. He’d starve if someone didn’t cook for him or if take out didn’t exist.” She grabbed one end of the cooler and I grabbed the other, helping her lift it out of the back. “So, he’s kind of like you with brownies?” I teased and she mock glared at me. “Lay off it, it made a great ice cream topping-” “Yeah, after you murdered it,” I muttered, grabbing the box that held all of the bread we would need. Eleanor grabbed the box that held all of the other things like sauces (ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise) and marshmallows-things that wouldn’t need to be kept cold until they were opened. “I did not murder them; they were a lost cause to begin with.” I shook my head, morose as I pulled out another box, this one with more supplies like pillows and mosquito netting. Once all of the remaining boxes were out and the back was empty, I closed the hatch back, straightening my posture and stretching my arms over my head, hands clasped together. Eleanor watched me, amused.  
“It was along card ride,” I said defensively, feeling the tingling burn that always came with stretching. “Were you a cheerleader?” She asked randomly and I blinked. “…maybe? Why? Do I look like a cheerleader?” She shrugged, picking up the handle of the cooler on her end. “No reason. It just occurred to me to ask-” Her sentence never finished because a jet of cold water hit her directly between the eyes, preceding a cackle that mingled with her angry shout. I turned-and was caught off guard by the sight of a boy who couldn’t be older than me with the prettiest blue eyes I had ever seen. He seemed to do a double take as I turned around-and I used it to my advantage. Reaching out, I snatched the gun out of his split second lack grip, pointing it at him. He held his hands up, jaw slack as he took a step away. “You’re Louis.” I said more of a statement than a question and he nodded, hands still held up in surrender. “Good. Tell them not to fire and I won’t have to put Kool-Aid in the water gun and make them look like rainbows.” His eyebrows raised and Eleanor groaned. I could hear her slapping her hand on her forehead. “Don’t give him ideas!” She whined –but Louis’ eyes were riveted on me and he was nodding. “Lower your weapons,” he called and three boys walked out from behind the vehicle a moment later, looking puzzled. Why would their leader, the master of mayhem, have told them to lower their weapons?  
When they laid eyes on me, however, some sort of understanding showed on their visages-I didn’t understand it, but I wasn’t going to question it either. “Put them on the ground. Slowly,” I ordered and they kept their eyes on me, bending down to set them on the ground. “Now step back five steps,” I ordered; they obeyed, almost like puppets on a string, and I said carefully, “Eleanor, get the guns. Put them in one of the boxes.” She scrambled to follow what I said and when the water guns were safely put away, I lowered mine. The tense shoulders of the four boys relaxed and I gave them a tense smile. “I was raised around five boys, five brothers. Try me. Try and steal the guns back and you will pay. I know things; I’ve done things that will make you cry in your sleep. So please, please do me the favor of stealing them back before I give them to you. You are older than five. Act your age boys, not your shoes size.” I turned around to be greeted with the sight of not just Eleanor, but four more girls, all of who were smiling broadly. I gave a little curtsy, grinning at them as they began to squeal and clap. “At your service,” I said, my tone cheeky and Eleanor giggled, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “I knew I liked you for a reason,” she said, giving me a gentle squeeze-and for a moment, the dead weight of guilt I had felt since coming here had been lifted off of my chest as the girls around me smiled.  
“Thank you,” one of them gushed, rushing forward, her skin caramel colored and her eyes a chocolate brown. She hugged me tight around the waist before pulling back and introducing herself. “It’s so good to finally meet you; El has told us about you for ages, wanting us to meet you. I’m Doniya Malik, Zayn’s sister, and your official new best friend since you’ve managed to do something none of us ever could-tame the barbarians.” I smiled at her, saying, “It’s nice to meet you, Doniya. I’m Evangeline-but judging by Eleanor’s motor mouth, you knew that, right?” She shrugged and Eleanor looked sheepish. “I was excited,” she claimed defensively and I heard a snort from behind me. “Psychotic is more like,” a deep voice teased, his words slow and heavy with a British accent. “Oi, that’s my girl you’re talking about-even if it’s true, only I’m allowed to say it!” There was a smack and then a yelp and I turned around, squirting the two boys with the water gun who were attempting to head lock each other. “Quiet,” I barked. “I’m meeting people.” I turned back around, looking to the other girls, and saw only one other person I didn’t know. “I’m Waliyha Malik, Zayn’s other sister,” she offered and I nodded, tipping my head to her. “It’s wonderful to meet you-Doniya, could you please let me go now?” She released me and I turned to the boys, hands on my hips.  
Eyes sweeping over them critically, I sighed, caving and saying, “Introduce yourselves, then. We need to get a move on. We have more to do today than stand around.” The last one to emerge gave me a friendly smile, innocent dimples with short cut hair and warm brown eyes. “I’m Liam-and this is Niall and Harry and Louis.” I looked to them as he pointed; Niall had blonde hair that was obviously bleached but went well with his bright blue eyes. Harry had dark brown curls and was taller than anyone here I’d seen so far. And Louis was…Well, Louis was in trouble, judging by the look on his girlfriend’s face. “It’s nice to meet you all. I’m Evangeline, Eleanor’s future sister. Now, if you’ll excuse me, we have boxes to carry and a tent to set up.” I tossed the gun into a box and picked up the other end of the cooler. Eleanor sent Louis one last glare and picked up her end, the two of us carrying the cooler to the spot where we would be setting the tent up. It was quiet when we sat it down the cooler; the boys hadn’t followed us. When I looked up at Eleanor, she was frowning. “Something wrong?” I questioned and she shook her head absentmindedly. “No, I’m fine,” she murmured, putting the boxes to the side, off of the cooler. I followed her lead and soon the boxes were out of the way and all we had to do was set up the tent.  
We didn’t talk much after that.  
D1D1D1D1D1  
The day had passed by in relative ease, without much happening. Other people arrived, setting up camp and making a small circle of tents in the clearing.  
I was tempted to explore but there were too many things to do, too many things to take care of before dark. The only one who seemed even remotely concerned about all we had to do before the sun set was Liam, strangely enough. He had seemed to be the most innocent out of the group but it now seemed as though he was the most responsible out of the entire group of about twenty teenagers. Again, I was left to question my father’s judgment when he had listened to Eleanor and allowed me to come here. A group of teenagers alone for a week, with alcohol and near a body of water; all in all it didn’t sound like an ideal situation. We would be lucky if someone didn’t come back pregnant. There were no adult with us, only a few people who were eighteen and legally considered adults….perhaps those were supposed to be the adults here? Were they the adult supervision? I wondered over it a lot as I set things up in our tent and made sure everyone had sunscreen and bug spray and things like that. Finally, tired of wondering, I asked Eleanor why I had been allowed to come to this-why all of these kids, because they were so clearly still not mature, were allowed to do this for such an extended period of time with no adult supervision. It made no sense to me; it bothered me and I almost immediately regretted asking because of the answer I got from the brunette who was soon going to be my sister.  
She had given me a look that told me what she thought of my sanity before she said, “Some of the people who are coming will be adults-they’ll be eighteen or older. We’re not stupid. We know we need someone here in case something goes wrong. Stop worrying about being watched by adults and relax, Angel. We’ve had this arranged for months and if our parents weren’t comfortable with sending us here, this wouldn’t be happening.” I had tried to relax and meet people all day like Eleanor had said, but not many people seemed to be too keen on talking with me, as if they thought I was a little less intelligent than they were. It put me in an ill mood, so I decided to shrink back into the shadows and observe. Most of the people there had clearly known each other from school-they interacted easily. I watched all day as people came up to me and asked for sunscreen or for bug spray or for other simple things, and knew that these people ran in tight knit groups with bonds that wouldn’t easily be broken. It occurred to me, as I watched all of them, that none of them had the same tint on their skin as the sisters of the brooding boy Perrie had gushed about. None of them seemed to be him-but perhaps that was the point of him being broody and silent. If he didn’t want to be noticed, he melted into the scenery. I wished I could do that, just melt away and see if the world missed me…  
They probably wouldn’t.  
Soon, darkness fell on the campsite and a fire was made to roast hot dogs and marshmallows. Eleanor had pulled me to her side, Louis on her other, and I had my notebook in my lap as I ate and recorded what was happening around me. Eleanor would glance at the notebook every now and then and roll her eyes, but wouldn’t comment on it. I was too busy watching those around me to care. Boys ragging on each other, girls giggling and gossiping, and…there was one boy. He was sitting by Niall and seemed oblivious to Niall having his head on Harry’s shoulder. His eyes flitted over the people around him just like me, and his skin seemed dark; seemed to be the same color as the Malik girls. I shouldn’t have looked at him for so long, but it was odd, how beautiful he was. I had never thought to describe a boy as pretty, but the term seemed to be the only one that would fit. He was just…pretty; high cheekbones, midnight hair, dark skin with dark eyes. I could see what Perrie was talking about. His gaze shifted in my direction and I looked down, feeling warmth on my cheeks and praying Eleanor would pass it off as a reaction to the heat of the fire. Soon, the heat drained from my cheeks and I shivered from the cold air on my back; I was beginning to get tired. I wanted to rest. I needed sleep if I was going to put up with all of these nonstop energizer bunnies the next day.  
I shuddered as I realized I had to do this for a week.  
I was about to stand up when Eleanor leaned over, whispering in my ear, “Don’t look, but Zayn’s looking at you. Have you spoken to him yet?” I shook my head, focusing on the paper in front of me. “No-this is the first time I’ve even seen him before.” I paused, before continuing, “I think I’m gonna go to bed soon. I’m tired from all of the work I had to do today.” Eleanor pouted and Louis seemed to sense it; he looked over, eyes curious, and his gaze rested on me for a moment too long. “What’s wrong, El?’ He said; his voice was the calmest and most quiet I had heard all day. She shrugged. “Nothing; I think Angel’s tired, I might turn in too.” His expression fell but Eleanor’s gaze remained on the fire. “You aren’t going to stay up for the singing?” She shrugged and glanced over at me, her lips curling up the tiniest amount. Ah, so that was what it was. She had taken my advice to heart after he had tried to ambush us at the vehicle; she was going to make him grow up just a little bit and be less infuriating to be around. “Well, after Angel and I had to do all of the unloading and the setting up and the organizing for the camp fire tonight, I’m tired Louis,” she said, her tone exasperated. “Singing?” The word was posed as a question and Louis seemed to perk up at it. He smiled at me as he answered his tone too bright and cheery for the dark night and quickly dropping temperatures.  
“Niall gets a guitar and we sing songs-not necessarily camping songs, but just songs to cheer everyone up and make everyone settle down before they go to bed.” A brief memory of a camp experience when I was younger came flitting back to me and I had to tune back into what Louis was saying. “”-Can you sing? We could always use more voices.” I shrugged writing was the only thing I felt comfortable with, to be honest. “Maybe? I don’t really know. I’ve never sang in front of a group before.” He looked offended, as if I had meant to insult him when I had decided, for all of my life, to be shy and not be as outrageous in everything I did as he was. Well, the poor thing would have to learn to live with it. I wasn’t going to be someone I wasn’t; I definitely wasn’t going to start tonight. Niall had quietly disappeared while I had conversed with Louis and returned with a guitar. It was a deep blue, almost black, in the light of the fire, and as he plucked the strings on it, the chatter seemed to die down around us. Everyone’s gaze focused on Niall, and his blue eyes glanced at Zayn. Zayn looked reluctant to join in once again; it shocked me when he opened his mouth and began to sing. I didn’t expect him to have a voice as smooth as he did-but it was as smooth as silk, washing over the circle of friends as he sang a song everyone seemed to know as several others joined in.  
“Your hand fits in mine like it’s made just for me…”  
I listened to his voice, almost in a trance, and Eleanor poked me in the side as the boy with the friendly brown eyes began to sing-Liam, I think. I looked at Eleanor and she gave me a half smile-but it had smugness to it, like she knew what I was thinking. I rolled my eyes and looked away, focusing on the chorus of the song. It was pretty song, all in all. It had very sweet lyrics and the voices of the people were pleasant to listen to. Tiredly, I leaned onto Eleanor’s shoulder and she all but melted into me, absorbing the warmth I had. It had been surprisingly easy to get along with her today. Eleanor was a bright person, full of laughter and happiness that was infectious. It was hard not to love her when she was smiling and laughing with her friends, hard to be in an ill mood when you saw someone so content with life. I was still miffed about her going behind my back, but after meeting all of her friends and getting acquainted with a few of them….I was beginning to think she had a point. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have some friends while I was here. Sure, I would miss my old friends and home seemed so far away, but that didn’t mean I had to be miserable. I just felt like I deserved to pout and be a little bitter about it for one more night. I would let it go when the sun rose and forget about it. I would move on and have a happy summer, like my father wanted when he ordered me to come here.  
I hated when other people were right, but I knew I had to concede to it this time. They had been right and all I had been doing was being petty and selfish. A grin was on Eleanor’s lips and I glanced at Louis a second before he opened his mouth to sing…. And did everyone here know how to sing? Was I the only one who felt like I couldn’t? Sighing gently, I closed my notebook and put the pen in it. My tired eyes took in all of the faces around the fire and it was hard to deny the friendship and love I saw surrounding me. These people were genuinely friends and cared for each other. Louis threaded his fingers through his girlfriend’s hand and she relented on the charade just a bit, smiling softly up at him as he sang along with the other people. Eleanor’s free arm wrapped around me, pulling me closer, and I didn’t have to fight the urge to smile. I was simply too tired to do it. I was completely exhausted. I closed my eyes, feeling a strand of hair slip out of the bun I had put my hair in earlier in the day. I hated having hair in my face but I was too absorbed in the song, drinking in the rhythm and the voices that accompanied it. I knew it was unwise to go to sleep with my notebook out in the open like this with Louis around, but I was fading fast. The energy had drained out of me and I didn’t have the strength to move. I was content sitting beside Eleanor on the blanket I had laid out while the fire was being made.  
I drifted to sleep on Eleanor’s shoulder, hearing the soft sound of guitar strings and Niall humming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Let me know what you think. She hasn't really met Zayn, but I think she will in the next chapter-which will be posted soon. Until then, let me know what you think and I'll try to get chapter three edited and up as soon as possible :)


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